like the way one's vision can transit so seamlessly from the lit end of a cigarette to the lamp, the exact same shade of orange. disillusionment is probably like a really painful epiphany, how the bleakness and dire-ness of a situation can hit one so squarely in the face. it's sad poetics and aesthetics are lost in such a beautiful city, that in this grueling race, all one sees is the goal, and all that one seeks is the easiest way to achieve that goal. there is no easy way..only really difficult paths, or paths that look bright and alluring but are filled only with disappointment and disillusionment.
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on a less poetic and mulling tone, i am bitter. i still wish so hard i were an english major. i hate school.
